


Crazy Rich Alderaanians

by OfPillar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Crazy Rich Asians Fusion, F/M, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfPillar/pseuds/OfPillar
Summary: “Wait,” Finn said, “the Ben you’re dating is BenSolo?”-Rey Johnson, Professor of Economics at Takodana University, thought she knew dysfunctional family relationships. Then her boyfriend Ben invites her to a wedding in his home country of Alderaan, where the food is divine, the clothes are to die for, and everything is apparently a goddamn ordeal in the Organa-Solo-Skywalker family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT GUYS

One of the more interesting things about teaching students was how infinitely creative yet astoundingly predictable they could be. Sometimes they surprised Rey in good ways: an insightful close reading of a paper, a clever solution that she hadn’t thought to include in the answer key. More often than not however, she found herself on the receiving end of last-minute novel-length emails that inevitably ended in a request for her to grant some overwhelmed freshman a 24-hour extension on the last pset, or drop the lowest midterm grade for a premed who’s just taking her introductory econ class “for the Gen Ed requirement”. 

 

Three and half months into the semester, Rey had learned more about her students’ Macbook malfunctions and conveniently timed food poisoning than she ever cared to know. She was in the middle of telling Hugh Skinner  - junior, B- average, painfully obvious double legacy - that he needed to contact his resident dean if he wanted to make up the final he slept through, when she heard an irritable “Hey”.

Looking up from her phone, Rey felt her face split into a wide grin as she took in Ben - tall, slumped-over, grouchy-looking Ben. “Hey back,” she said, scooting further into their usual booth at Cantina. Ben filled the empty space easily, one of his mile-long legs pressing against her own in greeting. It contrasted with his chilliness - not only from the snow swirling down outside, but also the tight, slightly cold expression on his face as he peeled off his gloves and shoved them into a coat pocket. 

 

Rey frowned. “Bad day at work?” Ben seemed to engage with his departmental colleagues and advisees through a bizarre mixture of caustic criticism diluted by faint praise.

 

“No,” Ben said shortly. 

 

Well then. Two could play at that game. Rey shrugged and turned back to her phone, which showed that Hugh Skinner had sent her several more frantic follow-up emails about his tale of woe in the past five minutes. She was parsing through a multiparagraph account of the “mandatory extracurricular social” that had prevented him from getting a good night’s sleep when Ben finally began to relax by infinitesimal degrees, tightly wound muscles unclenching and body tilting into hers as he released a long-suffering sigh.

 

“You smell good,” murmured Ben. One of his massive hands slipped beneath the wool back of her sweater before skating upwards to scratch lightly underneath the band of her bra. Rey violently suppressed a shudder of pleasure and pinched his leg. 

 

“It’s probably from the scented candle in my office. A student gave it to me earlier today. Thank you gift for the end of the semester and all that.”

 

The still-cold tip of Ben’s nose brushed along her cheek and inhaled as his hand withdrew. “Hm, roses. Interesting choice for the holidays.”

 

Rey shrugged and fired off her (probably not last) email to the unfortunate Mr. Skinner. “What can I say? I’m a popular woman.” That was a lie. Rey’s class was 75% young men and women who probably didn’t even remember what she looked like, given that lectures were now recorded and could be watched at 2X speed. The remaining 25% were mostly the hardcore male econ and applied math geeks who came to her office hours either to discuss research opportunities or stammer awkwardly through small talk with a girl for 15 min out of their day. Rey had one or two students crush on her a semester. Ben, who taught a single 8-person history seminar and directed all course-related questions to his harried TA Mitaka, had a private Facebook fanpage with 149 members.

 

“To my eternal consternation,” he replied dryly, before leaning in and catching her lower lip between his teeth. Just like that, Rey’s awareness of the outside world muted; she heard the distant squeak of barstools, saw peripherally the swing of long winter coats as people bundled past them on their way in and out of Cantina, before Ben made a hungry noise and tipped her chin up for further access. Something in Rey’s chest unfurled and emptied out at that, her ribcage expanding to make room for his want, which tended to surge through her like a tidal wave drowning out all else until one of them pulled back for air.

 

When at last they did, Rey felt a little dizzy with it, which was why it took her a full ten seconds to understand the words Ben spoke in a rush. “How do you feel about taking an adventure east?”

 

Rey leaned back to clear her head. “You mean, like, Dagobah?”

 

“What - no.” Ben choked on a laugh. He shook his head. “Alderaan. Winter break. For a… childhood friend’s wedding.”

 

“Oh.” Now it was Rey's turn to have words stick in her throat. Ben never talked about his home. She swallowed and forced herself to raise an eyebrow. “So I'd be your guest?”

 

“Sure, though that’s not what my family’s going to call it,” said Ben, rolling his eyes. Which was rich. For a month after they’d mutually agreed to start treating this thing as serious and exclusive or whatever, it had been all  _ this is my girlfriend, Rey  _ and  _ have you met my girlfriend, Rey?  _ and  _ I’m sorry, my girlfriend and I already have plans tonight.  _ She’d nearly killed him out of embarrassment. “You’ll get to meet everyone,” Ben added, mouth twisting into a resigned smile, before he was back to wheedling. “Reconnect with those strange roommates of yours from college-”

 

“Finn and Beebee!”

 

“I’ll take you to all the best, non-touristy parts of the island. We’ll eat fried kebroot and oro kebabs at the hawker stalls-”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Watch the sunrise from Declezia tower.”

 

“Romantic.”

 

“And when it’s a clear night, you’ll be able to see the constellations from our bedroom window after we-”

 

“All right, all right, I’m sold,” Rey laughed, slapping a hand over Ben’s mouth to keep him from scandalizing their fellow pub patrons. It was a public service, really. The way Ben’s lips felt as they curved up wickedly against her palm and he reeled her in - that was just the icing on top.


	2. Chapter 2

People were whispering.

 

After 40 years on the Council and 25 in the Senate, Leia was practiced at dividing whispers into 2 piles: Her Business, and Not Her Business. Han liked to say that these days the latter group had dwindled to a size no longer detectable by current technology, but he’d also never been forced to sit through a five-course dinner as Elsabeth Carney, soon-to-be-ex-wife-number-who-knows of General Luther Carney, tearfully confessed to her third secret liposuction. Leia had  _ standards _ for the rumors she collected.

 

Especially when they concerned Ben.

 

From what Threepio and Artoo had gleaned via the legislative assistant grapevine, her son was bringing someone to Poe Dameron’s wedding. Bazine Netal had told Jessika Pava who told Kaydel Connix who promptly slingshotted it around the whole damn island that said someone was another professor from that university he taught at.

 

As Leia scrolled through the cursory briefing Artoo compiled, her frown deepened. 

 

In her mind’s eye, she watched Ben grow once more from a quiet, mercurial toddler to a very unquiet, prickly teen, twice as tall as anyone had expected him to be and forever hunched over in the corners of rooms Leia tried to install him in: charity galas, museum openings, dinners with heads of state and Han’s business associates. When that hadn’t worked, she’d sent him to Luke. Then overseas for university, where he’d been finding excuses to linger ever since.

 

Threepio thought the girl was just another symptom of that. Like the doctorate in history instead of an MBA, the professorship, the industrial loft he’d purchased without consulting her, despite any number of property developers who would have leapt at the chance to cut a deal and affiliate themselves with the Organa-Solo name. Leia was feeling…perturbed, she decided. Bazine Netal’s hastily snapped photograph - taken in a busy college town bar and now flung across the social media channels of Alderaan’s elite - showed a Ben she didn’t recognize. Confident. Settled. Blatantly possessive, if the aggressive amounts of tongue involved were anything to go by. 

 

Leia clicked back to Rey Johnson’s faculty profile on Takodana University’s website. She supposed she could see the appeal. There was something to admire in the strong jawline and no-nonsense brows, and with eyes like _that_ , even a more plain face could have been described as striking. Plus, she was an academic. A female economics professor - so, tenacious and used to holding her own in a snake pit. No wonder Ben apparently found her irresistible. 

 

In another world, Leia might have been fond of Rey Johnson too. 

 

The Council was momentarily adjourned after Senator Vo and Senator Kr’thika had come to blows over whether Kr’thika was purposely trying to kill the STARR amendment because it tightened regulations on the starblossom industry, one of the interest groups she was courting ahead of re-election, or because Vo’s wife had snubbed hers at some ballet recital their daughters performed in. Both were equally likely, but Leia had more pressing matters to investigate as she ducked inside a private conference room, Threepio and Artoo faithfully standing guard outside.

 

“Hello?” said Ben when he picked up her call on the sixth ring, sounding very far away and wary. “What do you want?”

 

Leia sighed. The  _ manners  _ on him _.  _ “Today’s your lucky day,” she decided, absentmindedly stroking the elaborate enamel hairpin that held her braided updo together. It had been a gift from the ambassador of Scipio when she was sixteen, a decade and three mediocre boyfriends away from meeting Han. “I just have a quick question.”

 

“It’s never quick if you say that it’s a quick question.”

 

“Fine.” Leia cut to the chase. “What’s this about you taking someone to Poe’s wedding?”

 

Over the line, she could hear the exact moment when he swore fluidly and stalked out of whatever room he was just in. 

 

“How did you hear about that,” growled Ben. 

 

Leia reminded herself that it was pointless to roll one’s eyes when nobody else was around to appreciate the effect.  She nearly did anyway. “Artoo has an alert set up for your name. A photo was posted to some blog - Radio1Aldera?  _  -  _ last night, and now I’m probably going to have to field questions about it over tea with Brendol Hux this afternoon. A heads up would have been nice.” Ben said nothing, probably silently fuming. After a moment Leia added, “She’s quite pretty.”

 

“ _ Don’t _ .”

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” she challenged. “What were you planning to do, leave her in a hotel room the entire week while you attend the rehearsals and ceremony?”

 

“No, of course not, I just haven’t time yet to -”

 

“You may as well let her know what she’s in for.”

 

“Didn't think you'd want her to be so involved. I thought you had an image to maintain.”

 

“You overestimate my influence and concern,” Leia lied, resting her head against the cool marble wall. “Think what you like about your father and I, but that shouldn't come at the expense of making your girlfriend feel like she's your dirty little secret.” Right on cue, Ben made an incoherent noise of rage. “Besides, if she's dating  _ you,  _ I'm sure she’ll enjoy a couple days off with Paige's girls. It's you at Poe's bachelor party that I fear for.”

 

The line crackled with static as Ben exhaled aggravatedly. “Just to set the record straight,  _ you asked me _ to come to this.”

 

“And we’re all very grateful that you’ve been so generous with your time,” said Leia smoothly. Maker only knew the amount of wheeling, dealing, and strategically deployed guilt-trips that had been required to extract his promise of attendance the last time she called. Sensing concession was within grasp, she leaned in. “The two of you will be staying at home, of course. You know how hotels get this time of year, and we have more than enough bedrooms to spare. If you're serious about this girl, we ought to give her the full Organa-Solo experience.” 

 

Silence. Leia let it build. She’d learned the value of making a nonresponse work for you when she was still a tiresome little toddler clutching at Bail Organa’s knee as he took meetings in his study. Bail’s patience was legendary; Uncle Kenobi had once chuckled that her adoptive father could outwait the silence of the Triplehorn mountains themselves.

 

“I’ll send you the flight itinerary,” Ben snapped, and hung up.


	3. Chapter 3

The weeks leading up to their departure were packed with a litany of minor crises. Rey graded exams alongside a small army of TAs until her eyes crossed from exhaustion. Her passport had to be renewed at the local consulate. After she and Ben celebrated the end of grade submissions and start to the holidays by fucking on an eclectic selection of surfaces around his apartment - she was partial to the tufted window seat - Rey was struck by a sudden, overwhelming conviction that the wardrobe she’d half-packed was hopelessly inadequate.

 

“I like this one for you,” declared Maz, shaking out a forest green dress with a high waistline and - Rey’s favorite part - silky fringe banding the tiered skirt. It moved like a dream when she slid it on in the dressing room; Rey traced the crisp, straight neckline, nervous and seeking reassurance.

 

“Ben’s never talked about his family,” she blurted out. “Every time I try to bring them up, he changes the subject.”

 

It was almost a game at this point, one she still didn't understand the rules of. When she fished for childhood stories, he was quick to distract her with hot little kisses and other tempting but uninformative activities. When she teased Ben about the paperless sanctuary of his desk - almost unheard of in academia - he added a crystal award from some historical association and a picture frame of them hiking along the Kelvin Ridge last month. Rey wasn’t the most forthcoming about past lives herself, since the less said about Unkar Plutt the better, but Ben turned any mention of family into a masterclass on avoidance.

 

“Money, politics, or marriage. It’s always one of those three problems.” Maz held up a white jacket and skirt combo critically, starry lace spidering up the throat and frothing out from a cinched waist - _what do you think_? Rey considered it. The color was more appropriate at least. After two hours of research, she now knew that white was associated with luck and nobility in Alderaanian culture, that the country’s GDP was growing at a healthy clip of 3.6% a year, and that Ben’s aversion to owning anything more colorful than black was hilarious considering he grew up on an island famous for its lush terrain and luxury fabrics.

 

“Well it can’t be money, unless he’s the one supporting them. I’m the cheap one in this relationship,” she groused. Ben liked his creature comforts - the silver-tipped calligraphy set that sat on his desk at home, the carefully curated array of hair products with unreadable lists of ingredients that she shamelessly dipped into when staying over. His scrimping habits revolved around using her punch card at Jabba Juice.

 

Maz chuckled. “Definitely not that then. No one likes free stuff as much as rich people like free stuff. Start them with a couple cocktails on the house one time, and they’d always remember my place as the one where they got that great deal.” She helped Rey out of the green dress and added it to their “Buy” pile, along with the white skirt-jacket and several other articles of clothing in sleek, desaturated tones. Turning back with the lot draped over one arm, Maz stretched up on her tiptoes to tweak Rey’s nose. “So he doesn’t like to talk about his past, hm? But he sure wants a lot to do with your future.” Her eyes crinkled as heat flooded Rey’s face. “Oh come now. I may be old but even I know what it means when a shy boy asks you to meet his family.”

 

“I’m not-” Rey protested, “He’s not-”

 

They’d only been dating for a year. That was technically less time than she’d been in a relationship with her high school boyfriend. Teedo, for all his faults as the quintessential class stoner, had managed to show up lucid and carrying a corsage at senior prom. Rey thought about that as she and Ben wound their way through traffic to Takodana International Airport a few days later, mostly so she wouldn’t think about how at one point life involved fretting over tenure and hooking up with the broody history professor from that mixer for new faculty, and then when she’d let her guard down for a second, Ben asked if they could stop using condoms and started inviting her to family weddings and now their futures were hopelessly, excitingly, terrifyingly entangled.

 

“I will fucking end you in ways so creative they will nominate me for Best Director,” Ben hissed out the window. In the leftmost lane, a silver sedan abruptly turned right and started shoving its way through three lanes of traffic towards the exit, sending the drivers around them into screaming, honking murder.

 

“We’re cutting it pretty close on time,” said Rey. She checked her phone. “Less than an hour ‘til boarding - that’s not good.”

 

“It’s fine. ”

 

“I’m serious.” Rey craned her neck to get a better look at the line of cars ahead of them. “We’re supposed to get there at least two hours early and you don’t even have TSA pre-check. Get ready to run through the airport.”

 

Ben flipped off sedan guy as he passed in front of them, scowling. “I don’t run.”

 

In hindsight, his comparative cool should have set off alarm bells. Rey liked Ben a lot, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t know the guy. He fumed over slow walkers and publically castigated people who used the term “ironic” incorrectly. When they pulled into the airport terminal rather than the parking garage, Rey looked over in confusion. “What are you doing? We still have to park the car.”

 

Ben finally cracked a smile then, glancing out the driver's window before swooping back to steal a briskly efficient kiss. “They’ll handle it. You ready?”

 

Rey narrowed her eyes. “ _They_?”

 

*

 

Despite several attempts to clarify that this was some sort of mix-up, and then some kind of egregious booking error, Rey found herself being shuttled by several gorgeous flight attendants with alarming speed and politeness straight through airport security and onto the plane - or what Rey assumed was the plane, since she’d never stood in one so tricked out.

 

“That is a mini-fridge,” she said, pointing unnecessarily.

 

Ben ambled over and opened the door. “Oh, wow.” He pulled out a bottle of something topaz blue and bubbly, mouth tugging upward in amusement. “Toniray. Haven’t had this in a while. Want to try?”

 

Rey didn’t answer, eyes already leaping from the large flat-screen TV mounted against one wall, to the fluffy white robes hung up on another, to the private bathroom with its rose-gold accents and bubble bath setting. “Holy shit, did you just get scammed?”

 

Behind her, she heard the pop of a cork followed by the golden burble of liquid being poured into cut crystal glass. Ben made an indignant noise. “I didn’t book this on Expedia, if that’s what you mean. And I’m pretty sure this is opposite of getting scammed.”

 

There was a bowl of blushing pink fruit that looked like apples and smelled like strawberries. Rey’s fingers twitched toward it. “I don’t think we can afford this,” she whispered finally, gulping and turning around to stare at Ben, who stared back with strange fathomless eyes as he offered one of the glasses to her, sipping slowly from the other. “Or at least, I can’t.”

 

That got a snort. “It’s just a freebie. I’m not even paying for this; a family friend who has an in with the airline hooked us up after he heard I was booking tickets to Alderaan. Just enjoy yourself, Rey.”

 

 _No one likes free stuff like rich people like free stuff._ Rey crossed her arms at the way _family friend_ rolled off Ben’s tongue like water. “So your parents are, um. Wealthy?”

 

“Look,” Ben prevaricated after a long pause, “I’m not proud of it.”

 

Rey strode forward and snatched the glass out of his hand, downing the whole thing in one gulp. It was shockingly good. Silvery lightness crept quickly through her veins and she had to blink for a few seconds to focus on the situation at hand. When Rey looked up at Ben again, she was surprised to see unhappiness etched deep into the corners of his hemmed-in scowl.

 

Ben’s face was often expressive - lecturing passionately on the rise and fall of the ancient temples he studied, widening in amusement and curiosity when she ranted about her research, going slack with pleasure as she raked her nails down his back in bed. Rey liked that about him. After a childhood spent surviving on the scraps of affection Unkar Plutt doled out, Ben’s attentiveness had seeped under her skin like water after decades of drought. In return, she hated seeing him upset, out of place.

 

“We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to,” Rey said, slipping her free hand into his tentatively. After a moment, Ben squeezed back. Feeling emboldened, Rey added, “But it’s kind of weird that I had no idea before. I mean, given the context, I cannot believe you’re still using my Jabba Juice card to get free drinks.”

 

Ben’s whole body shook when he laughed. “I really like the wheatgrass shakes,” he admitted, pulling her back toward their seats. This was a familiar rhythm for them; the banter; the accidentally, awkwardly exposed hurt edges; the soothing through affection and sex. Rey’s knees hit the edge of the plush white leather and she fell back with a huff, loving the way Ben followed her down, caging her in with his absurdly long limbs and blotting out the tasteful mood lighting with how he just _loomed_. He managed to be everywhere all at once, from the strong thighs holding her own apart to the careful palm bracing her head where it landed on the seat. Kind in ways she hadn't even known she wanted - that was Ben.

 

“I’ll accept the drink,” Rey whispered into the warm hollow of his throat as fingers teased at the seam of her jeans, “But no more expensive surprises, okay? Even if they’re freebies.”

 

“Hm,” Ben said, busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fashion inspo creds for this chapter go to the delightful Bonnie Young green frock Daisy Ridley wore in her 73 Questions with Vogue, along with Andrew Gn's Resort 2016 collection.
> 
> If you're interested, I've made some moodboards for this fic on my tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

“So is this - time -?” asked Poe Dameron, mouth stuffed full of meat skewers and sugar wheels.

 

Their party of five - Ben, Rey, Poe, his fiancee Paige, and her sister Rose - was crammed around one rickety table in an open-air food court that could modestly be described as “bustling”. From the air, Alderaan had glowed with candlelight, a city lit from within. On the ground, it was a jangling crush of color and sound and smell: every stall Ben led her drooling past crooned and cajoled with promises of home-cooked comfort and secret family recipes, swimming in fiery spices or spun out into delicate, impossibly light sweets.

 

“I can’t understand,” Rey laughed, still piling inky black noodles bathed in garlicky butter onto her plate. “You gotta-”

 

Poe swallowed and shook his head, grinning broadly. “I was going to ask if this is your first time having Alderaanian food, but guessing that’s a yes?”

 

“You guessed correctly.” Rey slurped and then moaned as deep heat and flavor melted across her tongue. “You’ve been holding out on me,” she told Ben, elbowing him as he tore into his own helping of applecakes and mini meat pies, golden crusts braided into elaborate designs.

 

“It’s not authentic elsewhere,” he explained. Even chewing with a full mouth he somehow managed to slip into professor mode, pointing out details as they passed by. “Every stall here specializes in just one thing. There are recipes that have been handed down through five generations.”

 

“You’ll find that Alderaan is all about its heritage,” Paige added. “Are you guys planning on doing any sightseeing?”

 

“Mostly local,” Rey admitted. “Crevasse seemed like it might make a fun day trip, but I’m visiting some old college friends in the Diamond District tomorrow, so we had to cut it from our list.”

 

“Oh there’s loads to do there, you’ll love it. Who are you visiting?”

 

“The San Tekkas,” said Rey, and didn’t manage to get anything else out because in the next second Rose started choking on her chicken wing.

 

“Sorry, sorry, just went down the wrong way,” she wheezed after Ben administered a couple hard back slaps. Fumbling for the pile of napkins, she wiped furiously at streaming eyes with a concentration usually reserved for chess grandmasters and white people ordering at ethnic restaurants. Across the table, Poe and Paige shared a significant look. When Rey glanced at Ben, he just made a face and shrugged.

 

“So,” Poe said loudly over the sudden clatter of forks and plates, “What’s it like, being a professor?”

 

They got through the rest of the evening by dint of Rey’s stories about her job and Ben’s halting contributions, helped along by possibly more food and dessert than Rey had ever consumed during one sitting in her entire life. “I think I’m too bloated for sex,” she announced sadly when she and Ben finally stumbled back to their hotel room well past midnight. “I may never move again.”

 

Ben kicked off his shoes and hauled them both towards the bathroom. “Okay, but you’re brushing your teeth first.”

 

After the least sexy joint shower since that time they both caught the flu at separate conferences, she tucked a hand around his waist and pressed in close, their legs slotting together underneath the covers. “They seem nice,” Rey whispered into the furnace of Ben’s chest. “Your friends.”

 

“My family’s, not mine,” he corrected, nosing at her hairline and inhaling deeply. “I'm kind of a courtesy invite.”

 

The flat, matter-of-factness of his tone made Rey's stomach knot in terrible sadness. Ben was moody and demanding and genuinely hated birthdays for some reason, but he also loved with a stubbornness that could move mountains; he’d certainly moved her. She ached to think of him feeling like something to be jettisoned from his own home. Everything had been so pleasant, everyone so helpful and accomodating and courteous, that only now did she think there was maybe a correlation between Paige’s effusive greeting at the airport and the careful buffer of distance Ben and Poe maintained all night, aside from that male chin jerk thing which could mean anything from _how's it going?_ to _let's take this outside, asshole._ Rey had never thought of hospitality as something that could make you feel like more of an outsider, but then again she was a stranger in an antique land; at least she had more experience being the unwanted houseguest than Ben did.

 

“Poe’s parents are business partners,” he added, as if sensing the thoughts rattling around her head. “We hung out a lot when I was younger. You could say he’s like a second son to Leia - my mother.”

 

Rey let her hand drift along his spine, something sharp and protective kindling in her chest when he leaned into the simple touch. “What about Paige and Rose?”

 

“The Ticos are in mining. I’m sure they’re quite relieved that Paige’s soul mate happens to be in the same tax bracket as them.”

 

Rey cocked her head, trying not to grin as she met Ben’s wry gaze. “Are your parents going to be okay with me then? Since I think I _technically_ make more than you.” She taught more classes, but still.

 

“Oh, they’ll probably enjoy it.” Ben’s hand wandering to trace shapes of ancient runes on her belly left no question as to how much _he_ didn’t mind. “You could say it’s kind of a family tradition.”

 

*

 

The party was the kind of thing that Han would detest on principle and thus Leia will probably never get tired of. Ostensibly a public nod of approval towards Poe’s engagement, it was also a golden opportunity to loosen the lips of Alderaan’s most distinguished and continue spinning her web: for information, influence, favors politely offered and politely demurred until they need to be called in. More frivolously, there would always be a part of her that delighted in arranging the universe ( _you mean being bossy,_ Han would snort) and flipping the switch to send things whirling into motion, every piece falling precisely where expected with the faintest push from her finger.

 

The tinkling laughter of early arrivals filtered up from the first floor, as did Artoo’s chirping about taking their coats and getting them a glass of very good vintage scotch, Mrs. Solo will be down in just a moment, please make yourselves at home. Leia sighed and finished securing her hair in its confection of pinned-up loops and braids before moving on to the simpler stuff. She put on a pair of clustered night pearl earrings; dabbed starblossom water at her wrists and behind the ears; applied a coat of satiny carmine to her lips, bold and unexpected. Slipping on an ivory dress - skintight bodice squeezing any residual hesitation out of her - she took a moment to consider the waterfall of shimmering, beaded brocade that cascaded down the back before stepping into sheer steel-toed pumps, a delightful incongruity when properly paired with  warm smiles and judicious arm-twisting.

 

“Well look at you,” Han had said, the first time they met in Luke’s college dorm. Leia spent her junior winter break of college traveling from Coruscant to Tatooine to bully Luke into patenting the moisture farming machines he built in his spare time; Han was his roommate. Leia, conversationally proficient in sleazy male attention since the tender age of fourteen, had smiled back, all teeth.

 

“If we could just skip the part where you hit on me and I reject you and then you call me a bitch while denying that you could ever possibly be attracted a girl like me, it’ll make things go much smoother,” she suggested, as Han’s annoyingly sculpted eyebrows leapt to his hairline.

 

“Um,” Luke said nervously from his workbench.

 

They slept together once during her visit, which went about as well as could possibly be expected. The next time Leia saw Han Solo, they were both at a charity benefit for patrons of Aldera’s museum of fine arts, and she’d nearly taken out his eye pointing in accusation.

 

“ _You,_ ” she sputtered, distantly regretting that she’d chosen to wear the red pant suit her mother despairingly claimed did nothing to flatter her complexion.

 

“Me,” Han agreed, eating a shrimp roll off her plate with great relish.

 

“How did you get past security?” Leia demanded. “If you’re planning to steal something, it better be the abstract seascapes - they’re the only thing small enough to carry under your arm and valuable enough to make the prison sentence worth it.”

 

Han rolled his eyes, sending at least twenty women in their nearby vicinity swooning. “Cool it, princess, I’m on the guest list tonight. And just so you know, I donated those seascapes. Figured the tax break was worth more than trying to figure out how to make them hang straight in one of my bathrooms.”

 

At the time, it had all seemed very simple. Drilling Han on how he’d managed to become a shipping magnate instead of some backwater nerfherder (“That is the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me.” “I sincerely doubt it.”) naturally led to answering his own questions about her job managing operations and acquisitions at her father’s business (“How are you not somebody’s wife yet?” “Go straight to hell, Solo.”) From there, it was a hop, skip, and jump to pouncing the man in the backseat of his ridiculous yacht, then 2 years of actual dating, followed by marriage and Ben and transferring the Organa holdings into a blind trust once she was elected to public office.

 

Contrary to what Luke thought, Leia didn’t regret a second of her relationship with Han. He’d drawn a softness, a hope, out of her that she hadn’t known existed. Even after years of living all but separately, he was one of two people alive in the world that she’d bared her vulnerable underbelly to, who knew all the spots in her armor where a knife could slip under and cut human skin. Leia was too good at this game now to really trip up in any significant way, but as she made her way downstairs and greeted the wolves with a gracious smile, she spared a prayer of thanks for impeccable tailoring and sleeves that flared out around her in an exquisite fan, keeping everyone at arm’s berth; the no-nonsense click of her pumps on marble flooring; that whisper of comfort which comes from wearing silk and pearls over naked skin.

 

Threepio handled her instructions for decorations and entertainment, so obviously everything was elegant and eye-catching while still remaining tasteful and extremely appropriate. Leia accepted a flute of Toniray before engaging guests in descending order of personal distaste.

 

“Senator Organa,” Amilyn Holdo said when they finally caught each other an hour into the party, “My compliments on your latest speech to the academy graduates. I’m told enrollment shot up 10% this year as a result.”

 

Leia has personally known Amilyn since they were both sixteen and Amilyn eviscerated Brendol Hux in Model Council so pitilessly that he switched to Junior Military Leaders of Aldera the next year. Waving off the platitude, she said, “Oh, I was so nervous, you have no idea. Now, tell me all about this outrageous rumor I’m hearing about a deal with Crait over our bases there.”

 

Amilyn leveled her a look that says she’s not at all snowed by Leia’s game, which weirdly was one of the mutual feelings that have always made them respect each other more. Still, the General confirmed some things and denies some things, most of which Leia already knew, but it never hurt to cultivate an image of omnipotence.

 

It was times like these that always made her most grateful for the good influence of Bail and Breha Organa. More than private tutors or ballroom dance lessons or leaving behind a vast and lucrative land development empire, they made sure to raise someone capable of succeeding in the world. _Don’t ever let anyone make you feel lesser than because you are adopted_ , Bail had told her as she skipped alongside him through the gardens. _We would go to the ends of the earth for you_ , Breha said, long before Leia even realized that that could be anything other than a given. You didn’t build great big things in life by relying on the kindness of strangers; you did it by clinging to the people who fed you, bathed you, soothed your scraped knees when you had nothing to offer back in the first place.

 

She may love Luke - envy his ability to exude caring as easily as breathing - but there was no denying that her twin brother sometimes lacks the grit to do what needs to be done. Probably a side effect of living all those years in that backwater desert city before she found him. Luke had been a relative nobody, content to cultivate his plants and perform basic car maintenance, before she latched onto him like a barnacle and figured out how to make them both very rich from the weird shit he kept tinkering with in his garage. Han’s weakness was always the opposite: all kinetic energy, unable to stay still for three fucking seconds before running off after some shiny new half-thought-out business venture. A mistress would at least have been easier to work through in therapy. Leia rubbed her temples discreetly and reminded herself for the thousandth time that she willingly took on the family mantle of responsibility.

 

“Madam,” Threepio said, popping out from nowhere and scaring the shit out of her, “Master Ben’s car has arrived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia's dress is inspired by various designs from ASHI studio, which I highly recommend drooling over while crying from the realization that you can never afford any of it even if you saved up for 20 years.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspo creds to trixie-ren. Ridiculous execution is on me.
> 
> I'm on tumblr!: http://pillar--ofsalt.tumblr.com/


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